Fire-eater

fire-eater@riseup.net is a recovering writer/student/activist living in Portland, OR.
He can be found on his day off muttering to his ducks anti-civilizational Blake and Milton passages in his garden and greenhouse.

Sep 25, 2009 12:12am
As I type this, it is 11:48pm, almost midnight, and likely to be soon after midnight when I finally finish this, click ‘publish’, brush my teeth and settle in. I am reflecting on my day and my morning bike ride across the Hawthorne Bridge and the doughnut I bought. Contemplating the sometimes-insightful conversations(good one, today!) at the R*d and Bl*ck and the free coffee, given to people who look of a certain stripe, I guess. But, mostly what I wanted to blab about, was that I took a ‘shift’ on Portland’s IMC, receiving Twitter feeds and checking mobile Facebook statuses, and pirate radio from Pittsburgh most of the afternoon and all evening, and embedding them into a real-time news feed here at the top of the Portland IMC page. Personally, I feel a strong affinity toward, and stand in solidarity with these folks and their intention of shutting down the G-20. But here, twiddling my thumbs in front of my computer, and with numbers of participants tapering off and actions at protests dwindling over the years, I feel more and more like Millhouse up there in the picture. There were 49,000 activists in Seattle ten years ago, and I wasn’t in my damned room, in front of a computer. Honestly, I found myself distracted from my status and news-site monitoring by other, so-called “trivial” things and even felt disinterested altogether at times. I watched the videos, saw the state oppression, and acknowledged that what was happening was real. I have good reason to believe that I know why, at the behest of these global gangsters, that this erosion of democracy is taking place. Sure, I’m angry about it. But all I can think about is my live WGN stream.The Cubs are playing. They are making a last-minute run at the Wild Card spot and are keeping the Cardinals from clinching the Central at the same time. It is a great game and could be a big win, not to mention an entire series ahead with opportunities to beat St. Louis. Dempster has pitched a solid seven already and the Cubs bats kept them close. So I watch. I’m a huge Cubs fan, but also basically faithless. I have no faith in them that they will win, but will weep bitterly when they do not. They could clinch the Wild Card and I would stand in stony silence. They could cut the Cardinals’ lead of 9.5 games in half in this upcoming series and I would not be convinced. They could go to the World Series. They were one pitch away from it not being a possibility at all this evening, but they fought their way out of it. So I check the Facebook status of several people and I listen to the indie and pirate news feeds. The Cubs catch a fly ball for out one and then, immediately afterward, a Cardinal grounds into a play at first. Out two. I check Twitter. Brad Penny, the Cubs closer, throws a strike. I watch new Youtube vids of folks cloaked-up in black fatigues and bandannas chanting and flailing and being beaten back by men in black with batons and on horseback. And Penny with another strike. I see students set a dumpster on fire, and roll it at a surprisingly high velocity toward a police barricade and crash, scattering the cops. Penny, with a slider, ends the bottom of the 8th inning without giving up a run. And I see the Russian delegation to the G20 turned back by a red and black-clad line of young people. Both of these Pyrrhic victories are only temporary too, and you can call me cynical for saying that. The Cubs didn’t put it together this year. Injuries plagued their best hitters. Their starting pitchers never quite found harmony with the inconsistent closing staff, who gave up a ton of mostly-won games. They don’t have a bench that seems to think that what they are doing is important enough to put thought and finesse into it. Protesters in Pittsburgh don’t either. There is no organization for getting people to Pittsburgh en masse. There’s been little to no blue-collar solidarity. There are no United Steelworkers, and no Wobblies. There are no musicians and no moving, vibrant guest speakers. No inspiring dancing and no performance. No scathing, satirical art. The creativity is gone. Setting everything in sight on fire and breaking windows is like swinging at every pitch that comes near the plate, or trying to steal every base. Sometimes you must try to crank it out of the park, but mostly, the other team gets hip to your game, throws curve-balls that you cannot hit, and the Russian delegation finds another route. I like direct-action/protests and Cubs games and I like to take part in both when I can, but I haven’t lately, because I’m basically faithless. So when I see Jeff Baker tear into a lucky high fast ball, keeping the Cubs in the Wild Card race for another game or two, I feel the same way that I feel when I monitor the progress of (maybe) 1,000 kids in black, running around Pittsburgh, playing a glass-breaking, fire-starting version of cat-and-mouse with the cops and National Guard. Maybe their numbers will grow yet this week, and they will acquire some much-needed leadership and organization from some unexpected source. Maybe they will get contemplative and thoughtful and take a tactical, reasoned approach to our current crisis and disrupt the meetings in a meaningful way, in a manner that makes a cogent statement. Maybe the Cubs will have enough bats by tomorrow to employ a strategy against the Cardinals. I don’t know, but I’m pulling for both, outside chances they may be. Two things are clear: If the Cubs don’t play a perfect game tomorrow, they will lose to the best team in the National League and any opportunity to see the playoffs. And if the anti-globalization and climate change movement is to gain any ground, they’ll have to play it perfectly too. But it looks to me like we’ll have to wait until another season to see a good showing out of either. But hope’s a good thing to have, right? The G-20 and its commodification of the world’s resources and cultures cannot sustain itself long-term, and the Cubs will win a World Series coming up soon. However, I am more certain of the former coming sooner. Sorry, Coach Piniella. For what it’s worth, Coach, I wish you were in Pittsburgh this week, calling the plays there. And maybe I can get it together myself by next season. Never hurts to hope. wds

As I type this, it is 11:48pm, almost midnight, and likely to be soon after midnight when I finally finish this, click ‘publish’, brush my teeth and settle in. I am reflecting on my day and my morning bike ride across the Hawthorne Bridge and the doughnut I bought. Contemplating the sometimes-insightful conversations(good one, today!) at the R*d and Bl*ck and the free coffee, given to people who look of a certain stripe, I guess.
But, mostly what I wanted to blab about, was that I took a ‘shift’ on Portland’s IMC, receiving Twitter feeds and checking mobile Facebook statuses, and pirate radio from Pittsburgh most of the afternoon and all evening, and embedding them into a real-time news feed here at the top of the Portland IMC page. Personally, I feel a strong affinity toward, and stand in solidarity with these folks and their intention of shutting down the G-20. But here, twiddling my thumbs in front of my computer, and with numbers of participants tapering off and actions at protests dwindling over the years, I feel more and more like Millhouse up there in the picture. There were 49,000 activists in Seattle ten years ago, and I wasn’t in my damned room, in front of a computer.
Honestly, I found myself distracted from my status and news-site monitoring by other, so-called “trivial” things and even felt disinterested altogether at times. I watched the videos, saw the state oppression, and acknowledged that what was happening was real. I have good reason to believe that I know why, at the behest of these global gangsters, that this erosion of democracy is taking place. Sure, I’m angry about it.
But all I can think about is my live WGN stream.The Cubs are playing.
They are making a last-minute run at the Wild Card spot and are keeping the Cardinals from clinching the Central at the same time. It is a great game and could be a big win, not to mention an entire series ahead with opportunities to beat St. Louis. Dempster has pitched a solid seven already and the Cubs bats kept them close.
So I watch. I’m a huge Cubs fan, but also basically faithless. I have no faith in them that they will win, but will weep bitterly when they do not. They could clinch the Wild Card and I would stand in stony silence. They could cut the Cardinals’ lead of 9.5 games in half in this upcoming series and I would not be convinced. They could go to the World Series. They were one pitch away from it not being a possibility at all this evening, but they fought their way out of it.
So I check the Facebook status of several people and I listen to the indie and pirate news feeds. The Cubs catch a fly ball for out one and then, immediately afterward, a Cardinal grounds into a play at first. Out two. I check Twitter. Brad Penny, the Cubs closer, throws a strike. I watch new Youtube vids of folks cloaked-up in black fatigues and bandannas chanting and flailing and being beaten back by men in black with batons and on horseback. And Penny with another strike. I see students set a dumpster on fire, and roll it at a surprisingly high velocity toward a police barricade and crash, scattering the cops. Penny, with a slider, ends the bottom of the 8th inning without giving up a run. And I see the Russian delegation to the G20 turned back by a red and black-clad line of young people. Both of these Pyrrhic victories are only temporary too, and you can call me cynical for saying that.
The Cubs didn’t put it together this year. Injuries plagued their best hitters. Their starting pitchers never quite found harmony with the inconsistent closing staff, who gave up a ton of mostly-won games. They don’t have a bench that seems to think that what they are doing is important enough to put thought and finesse into it.
Protesters in Pittsburgh don’t either. There is no organization for getting people to Pittsburgh en masse. There’s been little to no blue-collar solidarity. There are no United Steelworkers, and no Wobblies. There are no musicians and no moving, vibrant guest speakers. No inspiring dancing and no performance. No scathing, satirical art. The creativity is gone. Setting everything in sight on fire and breaking windows is like swinging at every pitch that comes near the plate, or trying to steal every base. Sometimes you must try to crank it out of the park, but mostly, the other team gets hip to your game, throws curve-balls that you cannot hit, and the Russian delegation finds another route.
I like direct-action/protests and Cubs games and I like to take part in both when I can, but I haven’t lately, because I’m basically faithless.
So when I see Jeff Baker tear into a lucky high fast ball, keeping the Cubs in the Wild Card race for another game or two, I feel the same way that I feel when I monitor the progress of (maybe) 1,000 kids in black, running around Pittsburgh, playing a glass-breaking, fire-starting version of cat-and-mouse with the cops and National Guard. Maybe their numbers will grow yet this week, and they will acquire some much-needed leadership and organization from some unexpected source. Maybe they will get contemplative and thoughtful and take a tactical, reasoned approach to our current crisis and disrupt the meetings in a meaningful way, in a manner that makes a cogent statement. Maybe the Cubs will have enough bats by tomorrow to employ a strategy against the Cardinals. I don’t know, but I’m pulling for both, outside chances they may be.
Two things are clear: If the Cubs don’t play a perfect game tomorrow, they will lose to the best team in the National League and any opportunity to see the playoffs. And if the anti-globalization and climate change movement is to gain any ground, they’ll have to play it perfectly too. But it looks to me like we’ll have to wait until another season to see a good showing out of either. But hope’s a good thing to have, right?
The G-20 and its commodification of the world’s resources and cultures cannot sustain itself long-term, and the Cubs will win a World Series coming up soon. However, I am more certain of the former coming sooner. Sorry, Coach Piniella. For what it’s worth, Coach, I wish you were in Pittsburgh this week, calling the plays there. And maybe I can get it together myself by next season. Never hurts to hope.


wds

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